Not So Dark
by Meer-Katnip
Summary: Hot chocolate, friendship, and fussiness- all in a manor being haunted by a creepy figure in a hoodie. (Set in Night Thoughts.)


**A/N:** Sorry about the conspicuous lack of Hex, even though this is a _Night Thoughts_ fic. I really love this audio, and I've been working on this one for a while. :) Last lines taken from the audio itself.

* * *

One of the things that Ace McShane truly hated- right along with injustice, bureaucrats, and Daleks trying to kill her- was suddenly waking up with no memory of how she had fallen unconscious.

And right now, that was exactly what had happened.

She jerked upright, a sort of choked scream already forming in her throat, and a firm hand gripped her shoulder, pressing her back down. She struggled against it, thoughts of mysterious figures in hoodies rising unbidden in her thoughts.

"Don't try to overexert yourself," said a familiar Scottish voice close to her ear. "You've just been drugged. And not by an expert, I might add."

She relaxed instantly, and half-smiled at the ceiling. "Today really isn't my day, is it?"

The Doctor- because of course it was him- leaned into her vision, anxiously checking her eyesight with a small penlight. "It would appear not. You may be one of the most accident-prone friends I have ever had, and considering my track record, that's quite the accomplishment."

"So at least I have something to boast about if I end up in the emergency room because of something stupid I did," Ace said, grinning as she tried to raise herself off the mattress once again- and she was in her room at the manor, she noticed. "What happened? Where's Hex?"

The Doctor apparently hadn't found anything wrong with her, because he allowed her to rise into a seated position. "We found you in the attic. In a coma."

"A _coma?_ How long have I been out?"

"Not long," he said in what was probably meant to be a reassuring manner, patting her arm. "Only an hour or so… and Mister Hex is currently checking on the Deacon. She seems to have suffered the same predicament as you have."

"Is she all right?" Ace asked, suddenly concerned for the older woman. The Doctor shrugged.

"That's what we're attempting to find out. Stay here. I'll be right back."

And he strode out of the room with the air of liveliness that he always seemed to have, no matter what the situation was. The door shut behind him, and Ace heard the faint click of a lock.

"Hey!" she called, slightly annoyed. "Keeping me in here, are you?"

"No," came the response. "Keeping potential attackers _out._ "

She heard receding footsteps, and took a second to appreciate that he had thought of that fairly likely situation. It was nice to know that _someone_ was looking out for her. She sighed, and swung sideways out of bed, intending to stretch her legs. Unfortunately, she miscalculated- she had no idea _exactly_ how unbalanced, physically, she was.

Therefore, she probably couldn't be blamed for toppling off the bed and landing on the ground in a heap of tangled blankets and limbs. She lay there for a moment, debating internally the consequences of getting up. It probably would take a lot of effort.

Five minutes passed, and she wriggled uncomfortably, trying to at least sit up. The door creaked open, and she froze, glancing carefully up.

"Oh," she said weakly. "Hi, Professor."

He raised an eyebrow, and set the large, steaming mug that he was carrying down on the side table. "I told you to stay where you were. I'm beginning to think that you're never going to listen to a single word I say."

She tried her best not to look embarrassed, even as he untangled her from the sheets, and helped her back onto the bed.

"Now," he said, picking up the mug again, and producing a spoon from his pocket to stir it with. "Who attacked you up there?"

Ace closed her eyes, trying to think. "I don't know. It's all a bit… confusing. There was someone up there. Breathing heavily- Darth Vader style, you know? And then… well, there was the needle, and I could hear you and Hex trying to… wake me up." She tried to straighten up, aware that she was slouching a bit. "I think it was whoever freaked Hex out last night."

"You might be right," the Doctor acknowledged, and passed the mug to her, steadying her hand. "Here. Drink this."

She eyed the brown liquid suspiciously. "What is it? Some kind of alien miracle or something that's designed to flush the drugs out of my system?"

He chuckled, and shook his head. "No, nothing of the sort. Just some good, old fashioned hot chocolate."

Ace's eyes lit up, and she took a sip. "Thanks. Tastes great."

"Well, I did promise," he said, perching on the end of her bed. "As an old friend of mine once said- many of life's problems can be solved with the addition of hot chocolate."

Ace took another sip, letting the warm liquid spill down her throat. "They sound like a very smart person."

"Oh, she was," the Doctor said wistfully, and Ace could immediately sense that he was going into one of his rare angsty moments. She cradled the mug between her hands, and thought for a second.

"So," she said. "What now?"

He glanced up. "Hm?"

"There's a creepy figure going around, stabbing people with needles and tearing out dead men's eyes," said Ace dryly. "It sounds like the plot for a bad horror movie, and we're stuck in the middle of it. You're the one who always has the master plan, yeah?"

The Doctor raised his eyes to the heavens. "'Master plan'? Oh dear, what have I become? Is that my only character trait worth mentioning, nowadays?"

Ace rolled her eyes. "Well, there is the constant crypticness…"

"Ace," said the Doctor warningly. "'Crypticness' isn't a word."

"Isn't it?" She closed her eyes, and sighed out, acutely aware, all of a sudden, of how tired she was. The Doctor seemed to notice it too.

"You're clearly exhausted," he said decisively, standing up. "I'll let you get some rest."

The door opened once more, and Hex entered. His eyes darted back and forth between the two of them, assessing the situation, before he decided that it was probably safe to stay.

Ace frowned, hurriedly sitting up. "But I don't _need_ any rest."

"Ace," he said, in what he clearly thought was a reasonable tone. "You've had a nasty shock to the system. I insist you stay here until the drugs wear off."

"We don't even know what was injected into you," Hex added, slipping into nurse-mode. "Although, I have a suspicion…"

Ace sighed, resigned to the fact that she was going to be fussed over by her two friends for an indefinite amount of time. She set the now-empty mug on the side table, fully prepared to argue.

Although, to be honest, she wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
